The Truest Thing (Hart's Boardwalk 4)

Agent Underwood, a pretty, older woman with umber skin, leaned forward. “Mr. Devlin, we understand that you were promised immunity for your cooperation. Let me reassure you that the promise of immunity in exchange for your witness testimony still stands with the Bureau.”

He relaxed ever so slightly. “Good to know.”

From there he spent the next hour going over everything he’d already told Michael Sullivan. The experience wasn’t any less draining. When they released him, Jack wanted nothing more than to go to Cooper’s Bar and throw back a scotch. But he wasn’t sure if Cooper’s offer stood so soon after his confession.

The sound of Jack’s name halted him just as he was about to open the door to leave. Turning, he watched Sullivan hurry down the steps.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly.

Jack nodded.

“Just a heads-up.” Sullivan leaned in, lowering his voice. “The feds are working to freeze your father’s and brother’s assets, but for now, they posted bail.”

Jack tensed. “What the fuck? I thought that bail would be set at an impossible amount.”

Sullivan grimaced. “The bail judge was Judge Kent.”

Anger coursed through him at the news. “I gave you evidence that Kent has been taking bribes from Ian for years. Why the hell would he be allowed to set bail?”

“Because the feds can’t move on that evidence just yet. I’m sorry.”

“How long until their assets are frozen?”

“It should happen today. It might already have happened. Once it does, they can say goodbye to their fancy defense attorney.”

“Even so … they’re still out until this goes to trial.” Jack bit back a curse. “How do I protect my mother now?”

Rosalie had refused to move out of the mansion and into Jack’s place in South Hartwell, terrified of Ian. Jack had hope that once his father was behind bars, he’d be able to convince his mom to take that step.

“Look, I’m not supposed to do this, but if your mom wants to leave that house, I can accompany you to get her. In an unofficial capacity. As a friend.”

Jack appreciated the offer but he couldn’t put Sullivan in that position. “Thanks, but I … I’ll figure it out.”

“Be careful, Jack,” Sullivan warned. “Ian knows the evidence is stacked agains

t him and he seems like the kind of ruthless bastard that won’t take this lying down. He comes at you, I want you to call me immediately. Don’t deal with it yourself. Call me. I’ll come and slap some cuffs on him with pleasure.”

Jack nodded goodbye, his heart racing a little faster as he marched to his car.

“Fuck,” he bit out in frustration when he reached it. And then something occurred to him. “Rebecca.”

Jack broke the speed limit driving to his house in North Hartwell where he and Rebecca were staying. They’d already moved there, hoping Rosalie and Jamie would move into the South Hartwell home.

Practically flying out of the car, Jack took the porch steps three at a time and launched himself into the house. “Becs!” he yelled as he hurried through the lounge and into the kitchen. It was empty.

“Becs!”

No reply.

Shit.

Jack strode through the kitchen, planning to look upstairs, when a piece of paper pinned to the fridge caught his eye. He removed the tourist magnet holding it.

Gone for a walk along the beach. I have my cell if you need me.

Becs xx

Jack reached into his suit pocket for his phone. He wanted her back here where he could keep an eye on her.